Friday, 31 January 2014

It took Kennedy Moore years to put her life back together after Reese Spencer shattered it. But she did. Now, years later, strong and independent, she is in pursuit of a single dream—to dance with the Altman American Dance Theater. Unfortunately, Kennedy is learning that a girl from nowhere with no money and no contacts might never be able to reach her goal.

That is, until Reese reappears, offering a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that Kennedy just can’t refuse. In exchange for working on his yacht for a few short weeks, he’ll get her an audition with the famous dance troupe. All Kennedy has to do is keep her head down, work hard and resist Reese. That sounds easy enough, right?

Weakness…

Reese doesn’t want to make it easy for Kennedy. Seeing her again has started a fire in his blood—an unwelcome one. It took him years to forget about her before, so this time he has a plan. It’s simple: Get Kennedy on his yacht, seduce her, get her out of his system, move on with his life. That sounds easy enough, right?

But the one thing Reese didn’t plan for was Kennedy herself—a girl so strong yet so broken, she makes him want to rescue her, to take care of her. To save her. Even if he has to save her from himself.

M. Leighton is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Wild Ones and The Bad Boys romance trilogies. She is a native of Ohio, relocated to the warmer climates of the South, where she lets her mind wander to romantic settings with sexy Southern guys much like the one she married and the ones you'll find in her latest books. When her thoughts aren't roaming in that direction, she'll be riding horses, swimming in ponds and experiencing life on a ranch, all without leaving the cozy comfort of her office.

This is #2 in the ‘Pretty’ series but can
be read as a stand alone as I did!

Harrison ‘Reece’ Spencer is rich,
charismatic and enigmatic.

Kennedy Moore has spent years getting over
him when their eyes meet once again.

She is a dancer in Reece’s ‘club’…….. a
fact that hits Reece like a brick!

He wants her again, and what Reece wants he
gets……but he left her and she’s not going to easily forgive!

“I’ve
done just fine on my own all this time. Besides, dancing is what I love. It’s
what I’ve always wanted to do. Your club is just a stepping stone. Trust me,
Reece, I have dreams far beyond dancing in ‘your’ club”

So by fair means or foul he persuades her
onto his yacht, in his employment, as a dancer and entertainer with full
intentions to seduce and get her back!

“You
can pretend that you don’t feel it, but I know you do. There’s something
between us, Kennedy. There always has been”

As Kennedy finds herself unable to fight
him and her desires there are many twists and turns, especially in the latter 3rd
of the book that make you wonder if they will ever make it happen. Its told in
a dual POV which I really enjoy and despite Reece’s faults you cant help
routing for him towards the end when you start to understand more, of why he is
what he is, and why he did, what he did.

Michelle will keep you on the edge of your
seat as you hurtle towards the end of the book, unable to put it down!

Via the Rafflecopter posted here and on each participating site, you may:

·Like the M. Leighton, Author Facebook page (5 points, can only do once)

·Follow @mleightonbooks on Twitter (5 points, can only do once)

·Share the giveaway graphic on Twitter along with one reason that you’re excited to meet Reese (10 points, can do once per day)

·Tag three different friends in the comments under the graphic on the M. Leighton Author Facebook page with one reason you’re excited to meet Reese (10 points, can do once per day)

Details!

The giveaway begins at 12:00 am EST on January 14, 2014 and ends at 12:00 am EST on February 3, 2014.Winners will be randomly selected by 5:00 pm EST on February 5, 2014.For a complete list of rules, please see the “Rules” section of the Rafflecopter.

Thursday, 30 January 2014

If you're looking for a heartwarming story about a girl who falls deeply in love with a troubled boy who changes her life--a sob story with pretty metaphors and a million ways that'll tell you how "broken" she is, STOP. Don't read another word of this.

I'm not that type of girl.

My name is Emerald Anderson and I'm not going to bullshit you: I flunked out of college after my sophomore year, I've been fired from every job I've ever taken, and I've never had a fully functioning relationship in my life.

I wish I could say that I had a cheerleader in my corner, someone who says, "No, Emerald--You're great and you are good at something!" but I don't. My grandparents are completely oblivious to my life, and my mother's dying words to me were "You're going to end up just like me one day. A beautiful nothing."

She was right.

As I decide to start my life over and take two jobs that will forever change me--one from the inside, and one from the outside, I keep my mother's words close to my heart so I can keep the sexy and mysterious Carter Black away.

He's the first man who's ever pursued me, the first man who seems bent on finding out why I am the way I am, but he's wasting his time.

I'm not broken. I don't need to be fixed. I'm perfectly fine being a beautiful failure...

Her name was Leah Isabelle Anderson—“Leah Belle” for short, and she was one of New Jersey’s most sought after escorts.

With deep green eyes that could take any man’s breath away, and skin so porcelain and smooth that it looked too perfect to touch, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Often compared to a supermodel, her raven black hair fell past her shoulders, and her naturally long eyelashes were always coifed to perfection.

Growing up, I had no idea what she did with the men who picked her up in their shiny and expensive cars—the men who wore thousand dollar suits and patted me on the head while saying, “Your mom is really something special.”

In a way, these strangers became the closest thing I had to a family since I never knew my father: Her regulars, Christian and William, sent me gifts every Christmas. Arnie bought me my first bike, Steve taught me how to change a tire, and her most ruthless suitor—Vincent, took me shopping for designer clothes once a month.

Leah Belle—she never ever let me call her “mom,” wasn’t exactly a mother to me; she was more like an older friend. An older ‘I’ll-be-there-when-it’s-convenient’ friend.

She missed every elementary school play, every middle school writing competition, and never gave a damn about my grades. At first, the involuntary loneliness bothered me, but after I created an army of invisible friends and easily accessible fantasies, I came to terms with her neglect and happily accepted any attention she was willing to give me.

When I became a teenager, she started to hang around me more often—promising that she would do better, promising that she would make sure that “from here on out, [we’d] be best friends.” Since she’d run away from her parents after having me at sixteen, she made a point to never lecture or discipline me. She did however, teach me three very important lessons:

1.) “Always put tons of effort into the way you look. You need to be beautiful on the outside, no matter how fucked up you are on the inside. If you ever feel sad or depressed, suck that shit up and add more mascara.”

2.) “Don’t make friends. Make sponsors. If you can’t get anything out of someone or use them for a specific purpose, kick that person out of your life ASAP.”

3.) “Beauty wins over brains every time. Your body will always be your most important asset. Remember that.”

For my fourteenth birthday, she poured me my first shot and offered me a short line of coke, saying, “Welcome to life, Em!”

I shook my head at the coke—I’d read about the effects, but I happily took the red shot glass from her hand.

“To the best fuckin’ daughter in the world!” She lifted her glass in the air, waiting for me to do the same, and then she ordered me to toss it back.

The initial burning sensation was painful—disgusting, but in the years to come, that bitterness tasted better and better, and I looked forward to the two of us drinking together. It was the only time that she gave me her undivided attention.

In those moments, I would tell her about another writing competition I’d won or how I’d received more early college scholarships. When it was her turn, she would tell me about “turning tricks” like other parents told their kids about a day at the office.

“I can’t tell you how weak Ben’s dick was today,” she’d say. “I mean, I feel like I should be charging him double for the weak ass fucks he puts me through.”

“You don’t enjoy it with him? Ever?” I’d ask.

“No. Never with him. But he’s a sponsor, I’m getting his money, and that’s all that matters. I just lie there, scratch his back, and say ‘Harder… Harder’ to make him think I’m into it until—”

“Until he cums?”

“Yep.” She’d pass me a cigarette before sighing. “With him and a few others, I usually have to take a few shots beforehand to numb my mind. With the really good ones, all I have to do is relax. Sex can be fucking incredible when it’s done right…”

One particular Friday, after she let one of her regulars take me shopping for a Chanel bag, I unlocked the door to our home and saw droplets of blood all over the floor.

“Leah?” I set my shopping bag down. “Did you get another nose bleed?”

No answer.

I headed into the kitchen, looking for her usual remedies—hot tea and Q tips, but she wasn’t there.

“You here?” I walked around our living room and checked all the rooms upstairs. Confused, I pulled out my cell phone and called her.

No answer again.

I shrugged and opened a bottle of vodka, tossing back a few shots. I figured she’d left with one of her sponsors for a quickie and would be back by the time our favorite show started.

I decided to take a shower before it came on and headed into the downstairs bathroom.

The second I hit the lights, my heart fell out of my chest.

I wanted to believe that what I was seeing was simply a sick joke by my imagination—a twisted fantasy I’d snap out of in seconds.

Pale and blue, Leah’s body lay lifeless in our tub. Her left arm was dangling over the edge, and the small velvet bag where she kept her cocaine was dangling from her fingertips.

Scattered across the floor were hundreds of prescription pills and empty orange bottles that bore the names of strangers. On the vanity, there was an empty syringe and a folded note that read “For my Em…”

Trembling, I rushed to her side and pressed my finger against her neck, hoping for a pulse.

Nothing.

I tilted her head back and tried to breathe life into her—pressing her chest with my hands every few seconds, but it was no use.

She was gone.

I sank down to the floor in tears—cursing her, hating her, for doing this to me. To us.

I had no friends to call, no family either, so in my numb and dazed state I somehow managed to call 9-1-1. While the operator attempted to calm me down by asking me to take deep breaths, I walked over to the vanity and unfolded Leah’s last note:

Em,

I know you’re confused right now, but I want you to know that I love you. I love you so fucking much… You were the only thing that made my life worth living, and I wish I was strong enough to keep that in mind…

I’m not.

I’m tired of living a lie and I haven’t been happy in a very long time… I just can’t take it anymore…

I’ve fucked up a lot of things in my life, but the biggest regret I have is the way I raised you…I’m so sorry… This is going to be hard for you to believe—especially since I’m gone, but I need you to forget all that shit I taught you. Right now.

Fuck using your looks to get what you want. Go to college and do some good shit with your life, like write or something. You’re a good writer, you’re very smart, and you need to use your brain to get ahead. Can you promise to do that for me, Em?

Then again…It’s probably too late and I’m willing to bet that you’ll end up just like me: A beautiful nothing…

It won’t be your fault though. It’ll be—

I stopped reading and flushed that note down the toilet. Her last words were clearly written out of sadness and they were only compounding my pain.

As far as I was concerned, Leah had raised me the best she could and she was far from a “beautiful nothing” in my eyes. In fact, I cherished every single thing she’d taught me.

Even though I was beyond hurt that she’d selfishly left me all alone, I was determined to remember her at her best and for everything she was to me:

My mother.

My best friend.

My role model.

Mariah Cole is a Starbucks addict (hazelnut shots, please!), New Adult author, and an incessant daydreamer. Known for pushing the envelope, she's an avid reader of indie books and is always looking to chat with readers and authors alike.

I hesitated, finally looking at it, knowing it would piss me off no end to see

her naked body on display. I blinked in confusion, perplexed by the large

canvas. She had told me it was abstract, but I wasn’t prepared for this. It

looked more like a landscape scene than the gorgeous girl beside me. I had

just thought about how a woman’s body was all peaks, valleys and curves,

and that was literally what Rome had painted without any clear perspective.

Well, at least I didn’t have to worry about anyone else seeing this.

“How many hours did she pose for you, Rome?” I asked him.

“About six in total,” he replied, not taking his eyes off Sylvie.

“It’s very…interpretational, isn’t it?”

“It’s modern abstract, so yes.” He turned his attention back to Sylvie. “I

have to walk around, but have a drink with me later, okay?”

“’Kay. Congratulations, Rome.” She smiled at him and somehow this jackass

took that as a sign to hug her. My hands twitched, but I let it pass. She was

a beautiful girl and if I went around punching every guy who developed a

crush on her, I’d be a pretty busy man.

I stared back at the painting, putting my arm around her. “So, what do you

think?” she asked.

“Six hours, eh?”

“Yeah, it would have been less, but he kept getting the lines wrong and had

to start over a few times.”

I felt the grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. I bit my lip to keep her

from seeing it, but I failed miserably.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded. I choked on a laugh. She narrowed her

eyes at me, “What?”

I couldn’t control it anymore. I full-out laughed so hard, people turned to

look.

“I’m glad I bent down to whisper in her ear so we wouldn’t be overheard.

“Baby, isn’t it obvious to you? That guy just wanted an excuse to see you

naked.”

She released my hold. “No, that’s not true. This is his interpretation of me.

Jesus, Tex, that’s very petty of you to say.” She hissed the words in my

direction, managing to keep her voice to a very low level, although she was

shaking mad.

I pulled her back against my chest and put my arms around her so I could

have full access to her ear and she could clearly see the painting while I

explained myself. “I know you’re an artist, and you know art much better

than I do, but I’m a guy, and I know the male head—both of them—much

better than you. Right now, I’m struggling whether to kick Florence’s ass or

pat him on the back.”

“His name is Rome,” she replied, trying to keep her composure.

“Whatever. I’m not trying to be a jerk here. In fact, I think the idea was

fucking genius as hell and very creative, but then again, he is an artist.

I’m just being honest with you when I tell you that this”—I gestured to

the painting—“has no resemblance to this.” I ran my hand down her neck,

over the swell of her breasts and down her trim waist. We were in a corner

and the way I was hovering I knew we wouldn’t be seen, not that I cared,

but she would. Her breath hitched with my touch. “I know I’m way too

possessive of you, but it’s not something I’ll ever apologise for because I

love you so damn much. And the fact is, you are too free-spirited and look

at the good in all people. It’s the thing I’ve always loved most about you and

the very thing that scares the hell out of me too. Do you understand?” Her

body was melting into mine, and I knew from the way she shivered it wasn’t

from the cold.

Nicola's Review

4 Bare Naked Stars ****

At 10 years old Sylvie Cranston and her dad move in next door to Caleb
'Cal' Tanner in the small town of Prairie Marsh, Texas. To begin with Cal wants
nothing to do with Sylvie. But over the course of a few years, his feelings
towards her change. Sylvie shows Cal that she's not the weird girl everyone
makes out her to be, and that she is in fact a funny, intelligent and caring
girl. They become nearly inseparable. Best friends. Until one night at age 16,
they are ripped apart.

After that night everyone tried to tell Cal that Sylvie is dead. That
he needs to accept this and move on. But
no matter how many times they tell him, he knows different, he feels it. He refuses
to accept that she really is gone.

"Momma, you have to believe me. I know
she's not dead. She promised me she would fight. I'd know if she died. I'd feel
it. She was part of me. She was in here," I said pointing to my heart. I
sounded frantic, but I needed someone to have faith in the idea. "I love
her. I know---"

Nine years later Cal is living in
Portland, Oregon, teaching English Lit at the community college. He's likes it
there, and enjoys teaching something he is passionate about. Until one day a
new student catches his eye. Enter
Sophie Becker.

"The inflection in her voice jolted my memories as did the
sweet thickness of those seductive lips that I could just barely make out.
Sylvie? Had I finally lost my mind? Was she a ghost? An angel? A maddening
spirit the likes of which had visited Scrooge on that fateful Christmas Eve?
Fuck...What the hell was going on?"

Wanting to find out once and for all if
it is Sylvie, he decides to confront her. At first she's adamant he doesn't
know her, but after a little bit of a show down and ultimatum. She relents and
he finally gets his Sylvie back. His 'Lenore'.

"I love you, Sylvie Cranston. I loved you since I was fourteen
and I will love you until the day I die."

"I love you too, Caleb James Tanner."

"I have loved you since I was eleven and you sat next to me on
the swings at church. Its grown each day since, even when we weren't together.
I will never stop loving you."

But danger is still lurking in the background
for Sylvie. Waiting for the perfect time to pounce and ruin it all over again.
And although Sylvie uses this as a deterrent to fully commit, Cal is determined
to protect the girl he's always loved and to finally have the future they
deserve and want.

"I'm
thanking you for finding me." He trailed kisses along my forehead.

"You
found me. Besides, I had to come. I was missing something and I had to find
it."

"What?"

"My
heart. A man can't function without his heart."

While reading this book you start asking yourself a lot of questions

And when I got the answers to the questions swarming in my head.
bloody hell. It was so much more than what I had first thought. Yeah, I had
drawn up my own little conclusion of what was going on, but hell I was not
expecting that. And then MK decides to through an even bigger curve ball and
blows me away even more. It really leaves you with a Holy Fucking Shit moment.

I absolutely fell in love with Cal and Sylvie's story. I felt the
anguish, the longing and determination Cal went through. And I was so happy when they were finally
reunited. The love radiated off of them even after all the time they spent
apart.

It's mostly told through Cal's POV, switching
from the past when they were growing up to the present day. It's an amazing
story of never giving up, second chances and love that never dies. It truly is
wonderful and I loved every minute of it